Precious Moments
by Lt. Basil
Summary: Sometimes, even decrypting an Imperial code can wait when you have more important things to do. Ephraim tried to finish work, he really did... but how can he when his son is being so... distracting? - More Ephraim speculation, this time with a dash of Mira. Rated because it is nothing but shameless fluff.


**A/N: **_**WARNING: SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 8: EMPIRE DAY. DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT WATCHED**_

**Now that the spoiler alert is out of the way... hiya guys! Finally got to watch Empire Day yesterday – absolutely loved it. It also sent my geeky fangirl brain into overdrive the moment that I heard Ephraim Bridger's voice.**

_**LAST CHANCE TO AVOID SPOILERS!**_

**Ohmygosh Ezra's dad is a clone trooper! I'd know that voice anywhere! ... Thus, this fanfiction was born. **

**Now, I know that some of you are saying that Ezra's dad is Captain Rex, partially because of the episode in TCW with Cut, partially because we never find out what happened to him after Order 66, and mostly because he's the most **_**freaking awesome character **_**in TCW, but I might as well come out and say it; I doubt that that is the case. I would be stoked if it was, but I think it'd be more likely for his dad to be either a minor clone character, like Rhys or Boil, or else a completely original character (I don't think that his dad is Echo either – again, it'd be cool, but seems unlikely). **

**Now that my musing is done – enjoy the story!**

The sounds of the city outside grated on Ephraim's ears even as he tried in vain to focus on the encrypted datapad he was deciphering. Signs of Lothal's active livelihood could reach him even in the deepest, most secret point of his home. Even through the walls, he could hear the idle chatter of civilians and the groan of engines and other machines. Landspeeders whooshed by the house with an alarming frequency. Flinching, the ex-clone trooper bit his lip. Safe as he was down in the cellar, which was hidden from view and difficult to find unless you knew where to look, he couldn't shake that uneasy feeling that something bad was about to happen. Looking down at the datapad in his hand, it wasn't hard to see why.

"Think we've got a bit of trouble headed our way," he muttered, staring at the half-decrypted message. Holding it up, he turned to his right and asked, "What do you think, Ezra?"

His sixteen-month old son cooed and stretched out his arms, a sunny smile lighting up his face at the sound of Ephraim's voice. Despite his anxiety, the man grinned at the infant. Placing the datapad down, he cocked his head at boy, cracking a wide smile. Ezra watched him with huge, deep blue eyes, his expression that of confusion and mild curiosity. Three of the many traits he'd inherited from his mother...

Well, it looked like work was done for now. Smiling, Ephraim climbed to his feet and went over to his son, scooping him up from the tiny cradle he had been playing in and holding him close. "Hey kid," he said softly, grinning. Ezra watched his father with a wide-eyed gaze. One tiny, pudgy finger reached up and poked the man's nose. Laughing, Ephraim gently removed the finger. "No need to do that, little 'un."

Ezra squealed happily and blew a spit bubble. Ephraim flinched as it popped, spraying his face with saliva. Reaching up to wipe his face with the back of his hand, he smiled sheepishly at his son. Not pausing to consider, he wiped his son's face too, with the sleeve of his shirt.

"There we go," he told him with a grin. "Good as new. But between you and me, tyke, you're gonna need to stop doing that," he added as an afterthought, making a face. Ezra shrieked with laughter, eyes dancing with mischief.

_He's gonna be a right terror when he grows up... _Ephraim thought grimly, eying that impish expression nervously. "Don't go getting any ideas, mister," he warned playfully. Cocking his head, Ezra put on the most innocent expression that he could muster (But since he was a baby, that didn't take a lot of effort...). Smiling to himself, Ephraim pulled the kid up to rest on his shoulder.

"I am so lucky to have you, you know that, tyke?" he asked quietly. Ezra cooed and snuggled into his father's shoulder, grasping a handful of his shirt in one tiny, pudgy hand and kneading it. Ephraim froze, glancing down at the boy in mild surprise. The baby looked up at him and gave him a sunny smile.

Ephraim's throat closed up. Happy tears sprung to his eyes at he gazed at his son's bright expression. Water began to run down his cheeks, dripping off his chin and landing on the child's head. Overcome with emotion, Ephraim clutched the boy to his chest, allowing his joyful sobs to wrack his body.

"I love you so much, tyke," he choked, tucking his son's head under his chin. "And I will _always _protect you. Don't ever forget that."

Then, something completely unexpected happened.

Right in his ear, quietly enough to send shivers down his spine, Ephraim heard a voice. _I know, Dad. I won't._

Ephraim straightened up and looked over his shoulder. But there was no one there. He and Ezra were the only ones in the room. Unnerved, he looked down at his little boy, who had fallen asleep against his chest with his thumb shoved in his mouth in a typical baby fashion.

_That voice... it called me "Dad", _he thought. _But... that's impossible. The speaker had to be a teen, at the very least. Why...?_

Ephraim shook his head. It was probably just his imagination. Ezra was the only child he had. And even if he _had _had another, the kid wouldn't have been a teenager. He was barely thirteen chronologically, himself. Who knows what he'd actually heard.

Staring at his son, the clone felt his own eyelids start to droop. _I should probably finish what I was doing... _he thought numbly, yawning. He settled himself down on his chair and stared down at the datapad. _I should put Ezra back in his cradle... _He moved to get up.

Ezra whimpered in protest, tightening his grip on the man's shirt. Blinking, Ephraim sat completely again. His son's protests ceased. Smiling, he stroked the boy's head. "Well... maybe for just a little while..."

XXX

When Mira arrived back at home an hour and a half later, she was surprised and a little annoyed to find their old, broken synthesizer (which her husband had promised to fix while she was off at the market) still sitting on the counter where she'd left it. Annoyed, Mira walked over to the cellar entrance and opened the trapdoor.

"Ephraim, I know you're down there! Get up here!"

There was no response. Scowling, Mira mounted the ladder and started her way down. "In the future, if you promise to do something, you'd better do it!" she muttered under her breath. "How much tinkering can you _do _down here, anyway?"

Reaching the bottom rung, she hopped off and turned around sharply. "Ephraim, if you keep putting off fixing that synthesizer then _I swear..._" She trailed off when she saw the scene before her.

Ephraim was sprawled out on the chair at the workbench, a half-decrypted datapad sitting unnoticed in front of him. Ezra was curled up against his chest, clutching his father's shirt in one tiny fist while simultaneously sucking his own thumb. They were both fast asleep.

A warm feeling stirred inside Mira's chest. For a long moment, she simply stood there, staring at both her husband and her son with a gentle smile. The scene was just too cute for her to interrupt.

Walking over to them, she pulled up a chair and sat beside them, smiling. Gently touching Ephraim's sleeping face, she murmured, "The synthesizer can wait."

**Have I ever mentioned that these kinds of fics are the ones that I like the most? :3 I love family fics that end with a big cuddle pile. Especially when one of the family members is a baby...**

**I don't know what you thought of this fanfiction, but I loved it. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside! Best fluff I've ever written, I think (which isn't surprising. I'm not very fluffy...)**

**Feedback is much appreciated.**


End file.
